Making my move

Hey everybody!

Ok, so BIG news. (In my world…) My blog is officially self-hosted!

Well, technically not this blog. Look at your browser URL. Does it say https://stopmeifyouveheardthisone.wordpress.com? If so, you are on the old non-hosted blog. Womp womp.

All you need to do? Go to http://stopmeifyouveheardthisone.com.

Ooh, so fresh and so clean! Right? It would also be a good idea to update your Google readers to the new (sexier) URL.

EDIT: A reader pointed out that when you put the new URL in Google reader, it converts it to the old URL. BAD GOOGLE READER! You can use this link instead: http://stopmeifyouveheardthisone.com/feed/ (Sometimes I think technology hates me.)

Once you get to the new site (there will be a post there to welcome you so you know you’ve gone to the right place), you’ll officially be on the hosted version.

Exciting, right?

The only non-exciting part: If you’re subscribed to this blog, you’ll need to resubscribe to the new, hosted blog. I know, it’s beyond lame and I hate it. But the process is exactly the same, so it’s not a scary change. And the hosted blog looks exactly the same as this blog, so you don’t even have to mentally adjust!

Have questions? Feel free to leave them in the comments, and I’ll get right back to you. (Oh, that reminds me, if you’ve made comments since I made the switch, they won’t appear on the new site. Also lame and also something I hate. Fortunately, the switch only happened about a half hour ago, so there are only a few getting lost. Feel free to repost!)

Errr….

My friend Sam says that I inspire awkward moments. I’m not sure how to take that.

I mean, yes, awkward things happen to me. I am often awkward. But that happens to everyone…right?

Quick, tell me something awkward that happened to you recently so I don’t start feeling awkward about how awkward I am! (Yup, that was an awkward sentence…)

Letter to my future child

One day, my friend Erin and I were discussing how everything on the Internet lives forever and how just about anything can be found in a Google search, when the conversation shifted to how that probably means that if/when I have kids, they will someday find this blog. We concluded that the only thing to do was the write a post to them now, just to head off any awkwardness later. This is that post. FOR THE RECORD I AM NOT PREGNANT NOR PLANNING ON IT ANY TIME SOON. Again, NOT PREGNANT. Now carry on:

Oh…heeeeey there. So I guess…you found this.

If you’re in your mid-20s, hopefully we’re the same person and you now think I’m awesome. Or hopefully you’re like your dad and really like me even when I’m weird.

If you’re in your teens, you’re probably mildly humiliated. Sorry for being weird.

If you’re under the age of 10, WHAT ARE YOU DOING USING THE COMPUTER UNSUPERVISED???

So now you know that you mom wrote (writes? did I keep this up?) a blog. AND that she had the foresight to assume posterity would someday discover it. Wacky, huh?

See? I know EVERYTHING.

Actually, I’m kind of glad this happened. There’s a pretty good chance that (because I’m your mom) you only see me as a parent. (Unless you are in your mid-20s, in which case you might have discovered that I’m a human being too.) But in case that hasn’t happened yet, this will help.

I started this blog because a college professor told me I should have one. I kept it up because I really enjoyed it. I kept it up even when I didn’t enjoy it because I knew that stopping might mean I would stop for good. And the fact is, the best part about having a written record of my young adult life is that I will always have this perspective.

I can look back on the post I wrote right after I moved to New York and remember how mildly panicked I was at having my whole life up in the air. I can look back at the post I wrote the weekend your dad asked me to be his girlfriend and remember how excited I was about the possibilities. I can read the post I wrote the morning of our wedding, and even though it’s brief, remember the sweet, joyful emotions I felt while sitting on that couch in my hotel room typing frantically on my phone.

So basically, you found my diary. And since you obviously read it, I have no qualms about reading yours when I find it.

I’m kidding.

(But seriously.)

I feel like I should be using this opportunity to give you some kind of profound advice, but the fact is (as you can probably tell from my posts), you pretty much just have to figure things out as you go. (Plus I’m not anywhere near a parent yet, so I have no idea where to start.)

Obviously there are a lot of personal things I’ve learned that I can tell you (we still talk right? Oh man, I hope I’m not dead when you find this, that would be really awkward…) and hopefully I’ve set a good example for you in the “how to be a real-live adult” thing, but in general, you’re going to make mistakes. You’re going to take jobs you hate and your priorities are going to change. You’re going to make friends, and you’re going to lose them.

Life is going to be so unapologetically cruel one day, and on another you will be humbled by how wonderful things can be. And for me, writing every bit of it out just…helped. It helped and it helps me get through the good and the bad.

So I guess that’s the extend of my profundity. (And because I’m your mom, I know you read a lot your whole life and appreciate my use of the word “profundity.”) Regardless of what’s happening in your life or how old you are, I hope you know that I always want us to be at least as honest with each other as I am in these posts.

So…that got kind of heavy. This post started as a joke. It was supposed to be a funny post. It was supposed to help AVOID awkwardness!

Well, if there’s one thing this blog should teach you about me, it’s that I’m usually awkward no matter what. Odds are, you are too. (Sorry about that…) I guess what all this means is that I hope you’ll let me know when you find this.

Now go clean your room.

Prescription for Panic

So for the second time in the last couple of months, I missed my exit driving to work. (Ironically, the same exit that I claimed stresses me out so much. Does it stress you out, self? Does it?)

It might be time to start worrying that I’m not paying as much attention as I should be.

Anywho. It has been an interesting week. Last Friday, Joey got his first migraine ever. Those of you who suffer from them regularly know what a life suck they can be, but for us, there was the added panic of, “What if this is more than a migraine?”

It didn’t help that as it was coming on, Joey was texting me things like:

“I’m getting these weird spots in front of my eyes…and I can’t remember anyone’s name.”

“I feel really nauseous.”

“I just got a nose bleed.”

Is it just me, or is an unexplained nose bleed like, the SCARIEST symptom ever? Bleeding out of face orifices just makes my mind automatically jump to “The brain is bleeding.” Egads.

It didn’t help that when I googled his symptoms, Dr. Internets was like, “It’s either a migraine…OR A BRAIN TUMOR!!!!”

Thanks a lot, Dr. Internets.

Eventually he called me from the nurse’s office asking me to pick him up. (He works in a school…yes, it was kind of adorable to pick him up from the nurse’s office.)

When I picked him up, he was in bad shape. He couldn’t focus on anything and couldn’t stand or lay down without feeling nauseous. The nurse had given him a few physical test to make sure he wasn’t having a stroke. (SO reassuring…not.) He was also crazy pale. (Which is saying something considering he’s usually a steady shade of Irish.)

On the way home, I got him some Excedrin Migraine. He took one and went to sleep for a solid three hours. Like, solid. Like, I-had-to-keep-checking-to-make-sure-he-was-breathing-deep sleep.

He was pretty much out of commission for the rest of the weekend, though nothing was as bad as that first day.

Since then, he’s had a CT scan and gotten blood work done. The CT scan came out normal (no tumors or bleeding), and he gets the results of the blood work today. He has to have an MRI next week. (He had a really bad concussion when he was younger, and apparently he was supposed to get one a year after that. Guess what his doctors never told him?)

So the point is, he’s OK. He might be having some issues with scar tissue from the concussion, but we won’t know that until next week. But he’s OK.

All right, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, can I just tell you how completely terrifying the whole ordeal was? I mean, I know he was freaked out. There’s nothing worse than something being wrong with you and having no idea what it is or what to do to make yourself feel better. And top that with knowing it has something to do with your brain? T-E-R-R-I-F-Y-I-N-G.

As for me, I hadn’t really felt relaxed until he had the CT scan, and I’ll still a bit apprehensive until he gets an official diagnosis. What if something was seriously wrong? What if something happened to my best friend and love of my life?

I think the craziest thing about our life after marriage has been realizing that we really do fall more in love with each other every day. (Sorry, should have warned you this would get mushy.) But in all seriousness, our relationship is a thousand times stronger than it was the day we said “I do.” And I’m sure that in another eight months, it will be a thousand times stronger than it is today.

Throughout this whole ordeal, I had to actively keep myself from thinking about “the worst that could happen.” Because the worst that could happen is literally the worst thing I can imagine happening. I think what I’m trying to say is that having our immortality and the fact that something very well could be seriously wrong made me realize even more how much he means to me. And I cannot begin to tell you how relieved I was when he told me everything actually was fine.

Ugh, sorry, didn’t mean to get all heavy on you. (And on a Friday no less…) I’ve just been carrying this around in my head for a week and needed to get it out. Anyone have any similar experiences (or even just something heavy they want to let go of)? Feel free to leave a comment so we can all have a cathartic moment together.

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Bang it out

You guys know I can’t make a major hair decision without consulting you first.

Plus, I mean, I know you love being a part of the decision, right guys? …guys? Bueller?

Anway, here’s my dilemma (to the fifteen or so people who care and are still reading…): Bangs. Yay or nay?

The fact is, I’ve had bangs for probably 85-90% of my life in some capacity. Exhibit A:

I know, I look like an elf. I was a petite child. (And seriously, why could my hair have not just stayed that color?)

But see? Rocking the bangs despite being alive for less than three years.

I could go through a whole montage of me with bangs over the years, but I was a late bloomer, so that’s just way too many awkward years for me to relive this morning. Just trust me, I’ve almost always had them.

I had bangs at my wedding:

But after that event, I kind of “decided” to grow them out. I use quotes there because it wasn’t like, an active decision. I just didn’t keep up with cutting them. As of right now, my bangs are about as grown-out as they’ve been since I was 12. (Sorry, no photo. That’s smack-dab at the start of the awkwardness.)

But I kind of miss them! Mostly when I see pretty photos of girls with bangs on blogs and Pinterest. (Natch.)

I like bangs because they make you look like you have a hairstyle even if the only maintained part of your hair is the front bit. Plus, very rarely do I pull all my hair back off my face, and I think a bit of fringe frames everything nicely. Plus, you get to look like this:


(Ignore the weird face…focus on the bangs.)

Cons: Sometimes my forehead gets greasy and then my bangs get greasy and then I look gross. Plus, when I DO want to pull all my hair back, it requires a lot more bobby pins. Plus, you get to look like this:


Well…ok, maybe I don’t look exactly like any of those photos no matter what. But you get the point.

So you see my dilemma. (Or you’ve stopped reading.)

Can I get some input from girls on both sides of the fringe debate?

Like my hair style? Follow my Repunzel board on Pinterest so we can obsess over our hair together. Come on, it’s fun!

Party bloggin’ in the house tonight

So I check my blog stats fairly often. Not often enough to be considered obsessed, but often enough that I can probably give you a pretty accurate ball park of where the numbers are at any given time during the day.

On one hand, I just like little charts and graphs and seeing where everyone is coming from. On the other, it’s just nice to know that there are actually people reading this nonsense.

But even though my stat guesses are usually pretty accurate, for a while I was getting pleasantly surprised every morning at how many people had visited the night before. I would go to bed at around 2-something, and wake to well over 300.

What was the source behind this bizarre (yet pleasing) phenomenon? Today at lunch, my husband and I concluded it must be my West Coast readers.

Me: That makes sense.

Him: While we’re sleeping, they’re partying all night.

Me: Oh yeah?

Him: Yeah. Party blogging.

Me: And what exactly does party blogging look like?

And then he demonstrated (I guess pretend he’s looking at a computer screen ha):
image

image

God love that man.

So question to all you party bloggin’ West Coasters: When are you reading my blog? Is it after 11 EST?